through Kingston. Woe, grief, and mendicity there had established
their tribunal. Petitions and remonstrances were all in array; and,
in order to give the mourning victims of that devoted parish an
opportunity of assembling occasionally to grieve in unison, some
sympathetic philanthropists in the vicinity have built a theatre or
circus, wherein a Miss Hengler endeavours nightly to solace their
incurable woes, by dancing on wires, balancing tobacco-pipes, and
swallowing live cockchafers. Such an expedient was never hit upon
at this distance from town, till the melancholy aspect of things in
general pointed out the absolute necessity of it in this wretched
year.
During the week we thought we would go to some of the London
playhouses. We essayed Covent Garden. It was Miss Stephens' benefit:
"boxes full" stared us in the face; the pit, too, was crowded
with the more unfortunate classes of society; and upon inquiring
if we could make our way into the gallery, we were told that both
galleries had been crowded with squalid wretches, in a state of
actual starvation, who had spent their last five shillings each that
night in paying for admission, for oranges, apples and nuts, which,
as everybody knows, is not the sort of food the noble and free-born
Briton is accustomed to. We sighed and crossed the river, having
been refused admission at Mathews's, because the crowd of deplorable
beggars who had sought refuge in the Lyceum would admit of no
increase.
At Astley's, a house we thought remote from woe, we again applied.
"There's standing-room at the back of the boxes, sir," said a little
round-shouldered man in black, "but not a place in the pit or
gallery." "Good heavens!" we exclaimed, "and is there so general a
calamity pervading even the suburbs?" We turned into the road, where
we were stopped by a string of horsemen, and of gigs, carts, and
coaches, filled, inside and out, with the lowest and most unhappy
persons among the people, who had not chosen to assuage their
sorrows in the theatres, but had preferred to indulge their tender
sympathies in a fight, some twenty or thirty miles from town, to
which the circumstance of the times had induced them to transport
themselves at the nefarious expense, perhaps, of two or three pounds
each. But what made us shudder still more, was seeing that they were,
for the greatest part, in a state of intoxication, to which they had
no doubt been urged by the disastrous acts of that empty pretender to
politics, Pitt,--that weak man, Lord Londonderry,--or that misguided
bigot, Peel,--or some others of those who are, or have been, at the
helm of the State.
Having got clear of these, we crossed the bridge, and turned down
to the House of Commons: the doors were fast--no house. Tried at
the Lords: their lordships had adjourned at seven. "Ah!" said we,
"this is a new proof of the truth of our friend's suggestions: these
are noble and wealthy men; there is no distress here--no crowds--no
misery--no assemblage."
We were baffled in our attempt to get up the Haymarket, several
thousand unhappy persons having dressed themselves in diamonds, and
lace, and gold, and pearls, and feathers, and flounces, to weep
away the night, in the body of the Opera House. And at the Duke of
Devonshire's wall, we were obliged to abandon our hackney-coach,
into which we had stepped at the corner of St. James's Street, to
avoid the crowd of carriages, which had brought an innumerable host
of distressed families to his Grace's hospitable roof, in order that
their immediate necessities might be alleviated by some Italian
singing and _Ponche à la Romaine_.
Some of the females of these wretched groups we happened to
encounter, and a more truly pitiable sight we never saw; in the
middle of the night were they straggling out of the court-yard to
look for their carriages, with clothes hardly sufficient to cover
them from cold, or answer the purposes of common decency. To such
straits our women are driven by necessity.
Here our doctrine that even the highest were exempt from sorrow fell
to the ground, and we went to bed to dream of woe.
Pursuing, the next day, our course through the town, we dropped into
the Somerset House Exhibition, where there could not have been less
than two thousand of our unhappy fellow-creatures, who had paid, all
of them, one shilling, most of them two shillings, mewed up in close
hot rooms, with hardly space to move or breathe, and without the
smallest refreshment; nay, not even a crust of bread--not even a drop
of water to relieve them in their lamentable condition.
At Belzoni's Tomb the mourners were in myriads; at the Cosmorama
several wretched-looking people were endeavouring to pass their
lingering hours by peeping through little holes at coloured prints
stuck against a wall. At the Panorama--at the British Gallery, the
same horrid scenes were acting--the same deception was carrying
on; and at the Soho Bazaar it was quite moving to see the hundreds
of well-dressed suffering innocents who have been driven from the
best mercantile parts of the town to this secondary quarter, merely
because they are enabled, by this painful humiliation, to purchase
gauze, and coloured paper, and bugles, and knitting-needles, and
card-racks, and shuttlecocks, and fiz-gigs, and the other necessaries
of life, nearly one hundred per cent. cheaper there than anywhere
else in the metropolis.
We passed from the neutral ground of Soho Square into St. Giles's,
where we saw an Irishwoman, somewhat elevated with the private
consolation of the afternoon, thumping her husband about the head
with a shoulder of mutton, because he had bought it in preference
to a leg, which she wished for, while her four little starveling
children (who had neither beaver hats on their heads, nor red morocco
shoes to their feet), were playing with the motley tails of three
full-sized mackerel, upon which the famishing labourer had expended
a portion of his hard-earned wages, by way of supper, which the poor
creature had told his spouse he intended to take, that it might give
him an appetite for his next day's dinner.
Just above these, in a room, the windows of which were open, were
a set of unfortunate creatures, who had, in happier days, named
themselves the "Sons of Frolic;" these wretched persons were
suffering under the dreadful effects of civil dissension, which
always creeps in with domestic distress. That type of kings, the
parish beadle, had been sent for by the overbearing landlord, to
secure the most active of three of the members, who had just kicked
the waiter down stairs for having brought them up a corked bottle of
port wine. These distressed tradesmen, however, were so far imposed
upon as to be induced to make up the affair by a present of three
guineas to the waiter, and a pound to the beadle. Still, exclaimed
we, accumulation upon accumulation.
We found in all the dingy streets about those rural and unfrequented
parts of London, Bedford, Russell, Red Lion, Bloomsbury, Tavistock,
and Brunswick squares, the same congregation of carriages standing
(and lights were on the tables in the eating-rooms of the houses)
at different doors, which proved to us that the most respectable
families, at this period of distress, are driven to club together to
get food upon a principle of economy.
This remote passage led us towards Islington. At a melancholy place,
quite on the outskirts of the town, called White Conduit House, many
thousands of our fellow-mourners were congregated in the open fields;
night, too, was coming on, and the poor children were drinking milk
just as it came from the cow, while their parents, equally wretched,
but more experienced in sorrow, were swallowing the same succedaneum,
made into a mixture called syllabub.
At Sadler's Wells the grief was raving--we heard the lamentations
at the distance of half a mile--crowds filled even the lobbies; and
such is the pressure of national misfortune at the moment, that a
corn-factor was obliged the night we were there to give fourteen
shillings and sixpence, hackney-coach-hire, to get his poor shivering
wife and daughters to their miserable cottage _ornée_, with a
four-stall stable, conservatory, and coach-house in the Kent-road.
We rested in our researches from that evening pretty well till
Whitsuntide, and then, indeed, conviction took full possession of us.
To us who remember Greenwich park in the year 1792, what a
reverse!--then there were gaiety and sunshine, and fun and amusement.
In the first place, Whit-Sunday this year was a wet Sunday,--a
circumstance which, we are bold to say, never occurred before the
late Mr. Pitt's accession to office, and very rarely even during
his ruinous administration. The conduct of the "talents" in this
particular cannot be cited, as only one Whitsuntide occurred during
their splendid career.
Our readers may conceive the gloom this oppressive mismanagement,
and evident disregard for the comforts of the poor, threw over the
quondam scene of gaiety; the people surely might have been allowed to
meet, and weep in comfort in one of the Royal parks!
But if Sunday filled us with this feeling, what must Monday have
done, when nature interfering, to triumph over the tyrants, gave
the people a fine day? Then did we see them loading every sort of
vehicle, on the inner and outer sides, driving horses, and donkeys,
and ponies, and riding them with all their speed and energy, to reach
the once-loved spot they had known in former days, and grieve all
together at our deplorable state.
When arrived there, how did they conduct themselves? They threw
themselves into the most extravagant postures, rolling down hills,
and running up again, throwing sticks even at oranges and cakes, in
hopes of getting something to allay their hunger and thirst--some
indeed we saw, decent-looking persons, devouring with avidity fish,
called eels, who themselves (poor victims!) are driven to wallow
in mud for their food, and first skinned alive, are next cut to
pieces, and finally exterminated by the hands of cooks as men are by
ministers.--What a striking resemblance there is between an Eel and
an Englishman!
At Richmond sorrow put on her deepest sables--hundreds of devoted
persons were crammed into vessels, encouraged by Government as
packets at our outports, in which the danger of being scalded to
death, burnt alive, or blown to atoms, are added to all the other
little _désagréments_ of the deep.
Steam-boats are what they call improvements. They may be in this
age of redundant population: but what Government is there on earth,
except ours, who, for the chance of thinning an overstocked nation,
could have had the barbarity to allow these craft to ply on the seas
and the rivers, which must wound the feelings and invade the rights
of those established captains of colliers and owners of coal-barges,
who, for centuries before, used to make their voyages satisfactorily
to themselves, but whose pride is now destroyed, and whose vessels
are treated like petitioners when applying for relief to the great
and mighty. Away puffs the nobleman and the steamer, and all the
suffering coal-bargemen or the needy applicant gets for his manual
labour, is a sight of the stern of either, and a tremulous sensation,
caused by the swell of their passing power.
But to return to the more immediate effects of misrule. The commons
and heaths round the metropolis were sought out, to change the
wretched scene; and Blackheath, Hampstead-heath, Hornsey-wood, and
Norwood, were covered with flocks of the populace, who had quitted
their houses in despair, and in one-horse chaises.
They, and indeed all those particularly around London, seemed to join
in a determined manifestation of the crisis of affairs, which might,
if anything could, we should think, show Ministers the destruction,
to the brink of which they have brought desponding England. The same
threat, it is true, has been held out to all preceding Ministers
by sensible Reformers for the last century and a half; and they,
heartlessly and senselessly, have, without feeling, disbelieved
the cry; but when, to all the calamities of peace, are added
that curse of nations, plenty, the blow naturally received by an
increasing revenue, and a decreasing expenditure; and, above all, the
heartrending proofs of popular misery, which we have here selected;
we think the present administration, which has reduced us to this
debased, degraded, and unhappy state, will take warning in time. We
give them fair notice--we have done our duty in bringing the matter
before them--we shall say no more--if they are not wise enough to
take a hint, why "there's an end on't," and we give them up.
HINTS FOR THE LEVEE.
Dilworth's instructions to little boys and girls direct them "never
to be greedy, or swallow large pieces of meat, or eat hot pudding."
He, moreover, cautions them against many little improprieties
which shall be nameless; and concludes with this impressive
admonition--"never pick your nose in company."
We have not room for all the instructions in the Scots paper, which
occupy more than three columns; but we shall quote one or two, which
appear the most important.
"_Directions for going to a Levee._--Full suit, bag, sword--hair
powder is not held to be indispensable.
"Each individual will have two cards, one of which will be taken
care of by the pages in the ante-chamber, who will have the care of
the 'Court Record.' The stranger will then walk through the suite of
departments till he finds himself in that immediately joining the
presence chamber."
This, it will be perceived, is quite in the Dilworth style, excepting
that, instead of "not picking his nose," the pupil is here directed
to follow it; which, if he did, he would arrive at the room he
wanted, without such an elaborate description.
The account of the reception the stranger is to expect is not
prepossessing, although correct enough in point of fact:--
"The person on coming up to his Majesty drops one knee to the
King--the crowd being great he is immediately pushed forward."
This our readers will perceive (as it is expressed), must immediately
upset him at his Majesty's feet; and the great difficulty, instead of
not picking his nose, will be "not to break his nose in company." A
consolation is offered to the patient hereabouts, which is soothing
enough:--
"He may pay his respects _en passant_ to any of the Cabinet Ministers
with whom he is acquainted."
A privilege not confined, we conclude, to the place or occasion.
The truth is, that when the patient is up and off his knees, he
may expect to be pushed forward. At least, we suppose, it is not
intended, as the _Star_ expresses it, that he is to be pushed forward
while on them, because a more inconvenient opportunity of changing
the form of presentation could not have been selected, than when so
many gentlemen are likely to appear in the Highland costume.
The mode of preventing a crowd at a Levee, which the _Star_ mentions,
is new and ingenious:--
"Every gentleman may appear in the dress of his regiment, but it
must be full dress, viz., a coat with skirts, etc.: any person may
easily see that unless some regulation of this sort were enforced,
the King's Levees would, on all occasions, be crowded to an extent
altogether destructive of comfort."
We do not see the force of this regulation, we confess.
Farther on we perceive this:--
"It is understood that Glengarry, Breadalbane, Huntley, and several
others, mean to attend the Levee 'with their tails on.'"
This, to a Southron, sounds very odd; and the omission of the
Duke of Hamilton's name, on such an occasion, would appear still
more strange, if we did not explain that it is a mere phrase, and
indicates the proposed attendance of dependants upon their chieftains.
We are fearful, however, that if these nobles bring their tails
with them, the regulation about wearing skirts will be rendered
unavailing, and that the skirts without tails, and the tails without
skirts, will have a good tough squeeze of it after all.
The directions for the conduct of the ladies, upon the present
occasion, are clearer and more defined:--
"Ladies are introduced to the King either by Ladies who have already
been at Court, or by the Lord in Waiting. The Lady drops her train
(about four yards in length) when she enters the circle of the
King. It is held up by the Lord in Waiting till she is close to his
Majesty. She curtsies. The King raises her up, and salutes her on
the cheek. She then retires, always facing the Sovereign till she
is beyond the circle. A considerable difficulty is presented to the
inexperienced by the necessity of retiring (without assistance)
backwards. The ladies must exert their skill to move their trains
quietly and neatly from behind them as they retire; and those who
have never worn such dresses should lose no time in beginning to
practise this. Most painful must the situation be of a young female
who is so unfortunate as to make a _faux-pas_ on such an occasion. It
was by no means so difficult when hoops were in fashion; but now that
these have been discarded there is nothing to assist in keeping the
train off the ground. The ladies cannot require to be informed that
they must all appear in Court plumes and fans. At least nine feathers
must be in each head-dress."
It will be observed, that the ladies are literally to come with their
tails on, as the gentlemen are metaphorically; and the instructions
how to "enter the circle of the King" are all plain enough; but
subsequently we are involved in a dilemma, from the fact that part
of the instructions appear to have been borrowed from a section of
Dilworth, which we should not have ventured to quote.
"A considerable difficulty is presented to the inexperienced by the
necessity (without assistance) of retiring backwards."
Now, retiring forwards, at any time, is a difficulty, and better
suited to the Irish than the Scottish Court; and therefore, as
all retiring must be going back, we are so dull as not to see why
"retiring backwards" (the very phrase used in Dilworth) has anything
to do with the "necessities" of the moment.
The ladies are warned, it will be perceived, when the necessity of
retiring backwards comes upon them, to "move their trains quietly
from behind them," and they are desired to practise this manœuvre.
This is careful and decent, and highly worthy of commendation, but
the caution which follows seems outrageous:--
"Most painful must be the situation of a young female who is so
unfortunate as to make a _faux-pas_ on such an occasion."
Dear heart! what could the _Star_ have been dreaming of?
We have heard, in private letters from Edinburgh, that the King's
visit has turned the heads of everybody in that city; and, therefore,
we think the _Star_ worthy of much praise for endeavouring to teach
them which way to turn their tails: a lesson which, we trust, will be
as profitable to them as it has been amusing to us.
THE INCONSISTENCIES OF CANT.
AN ILLUSTRATIVE HISTORY OF ONE DAY.
In order to carry herself gracefully, and turn out her toes in after
times, the young pupil of the dancing-master is placed diurnally
upon a board, so contrived as to keep her delicate feet extended at
right angles with its sides; and, with her chest expanded, and her
head erect, the dear little creature is made to stand for a certain
period of every morning, Sundays excepted. This is all very well in
early youth, and the pains endured in those days are amply repaid by
the admiration she afterwards excites at Almack's by the gracefulness
of her air and manner, the carriage of her body, and the symmetry of
her figure. Wretched, indeed, would be the fair sufferer's case were
she doomed from her teens to her death to stand in the same little
stocks, and never enjoy the more liberal pleasures of her dancing
days. Such is the melancholy state of a considerate "saint,"--and
consider he must; for, if he considereth not, he sins. But to my
history.
A gentleman, plain, pious, and excessively virtuous (such has ever
been our aversion from mentioning proper names, that we decline
saying who), resident, however, in a suburban villa, with a well-mown
lawn in front, and charmingly-clipped evergreens standing thereupon,
a bright-yellow gravel sweep to the door, a shining weathercock on
the coach-house, a large dog in the yard, an old peacock on a rail,
and a couple of enormous shells on either side of the entrance
steps,--a gentleman, we say, resident in such a house, having
descanted upon the horrors of slavery, lighted, last Tuesday evening,
his bedroom candle, and betook himself to rest, his exemplary partner
having preceded him thither after family prayers. To doubt the
quiescence of such a couple, to imagine that anything could ruffle
their serenity, or disturb their slumbers, would be to libel the
fraternity to which our excellent friend belongs.
In the morning the exemplary man arose; and the first thing he did
when he went down stairs, was to look into his hot-house, where he
carefully examined a specimen of sugar-cane which he had planted some
months previously, with a view to the cultivation of free sugar upon
Dartmoor. He then sat down to breakfast with his lady.
"Dear Rachel," said the exemplary man, "how excellent this free sugar
is. You get this, I presume, of William Heywood?"
"To be sure, my dear," replied the partner of his joys.
"It is gratifying to think," said the husband, "that no slave has
been flogged to produce this."
Saying which, the mild and humane gentleman dropped a lump of it
into a cup of chocolate, upon which excellent beverage, or the
slave-labour required to cultivate it, he made no observation.
"I have but one fault to find with free sugar," said the lady,
sighing.
"Name it," said the saint.
"It is fourteen-pence a pound, my love," said his spouse, "and we can
get better anywhere else for ten-pence."
"That signifies little, my dear," said the saint, "provided we use
nothing that has cost the slave torture." And then he blew his
nose with a cotton pocket-handkerchief. "Confinement and slavery,"
continued the pious man, "are incompatible with humanity and
feeling." Saying which, he walked up to the cage which held his
lady's Jamaica parrot, and indulged the moping captive with a lump of
Heywood's "free and easy."
At this moment his dennett was announced, and, rising from his
bamboo-chair, he proceeded to leave ten guineas with his lady for a
charitable donation;--he put on his hat and gloves, and his amiable
partner having attended him to the door, as he stepped into the
vehicle, expressed her tender fears lest the slightness of the shafts
should endanger her exemplary husband's neck.
"They look very slight, dearest," said the "saint;" "but they are
perfectly secure, they are made of lance-wood!"
Consoled by this intelligence, she waved her lily hand, and our pious
friend went to attend a meeting of shareholders of the Anglo-Mexican
Mining Company, where he paid up his instalments, without taking the
precaution of considering what class of labourers must necessarily
be employed in working the mines. He proceeded thence to the sale of
East India produce, where he made several purchases, not troubling
himself to inquire how indigo flourished, or rice grew; and, meeting
on his way a director of the opulent Leadenhall monopoly, accepted an
invitation to dine with him at the City of London Tavern.